Kids Who Have No One
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: "Take care of your younger siblings. Take care of kids who have no one." When the loneliness is unbearable, just turn to your 'family' and remember that maybe you aren't so alone after all. Based on a quote in Misplaced.


**While updating another fic of mine, I heard Robin say this (in Misplaced, the newest episode, the one I extremely hated for reasons you should have guessed by now if you've read my fics before) and I just stopped, my mouth agape, my heart broken. I wanted to go out and buy all of the orphans in the world, or at least drive to Bri's foster home and hug her until she passes out… At least she still has both of her parents though… and her big brother… unlike our little Robbie boy. If they don't show some KF/Rob bromance soon, I swear, I will drive down to the station and beat them down... with the baby orphans I bought. Sorry I've been gone so long. I'm just going to say "Neena" and leave it at that. She's like my drug and I'm afraid to stop 'taking her', if you get the picture. I want to be a close friend to her… She's just really nice :) Can't help myself! **

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><p>"<em>Take care of your younger siblings. Take care of kids who have no one." <em>

Dick sat in the open window sill, letting his legs hang over the edge, out over the ocean while the evening sun dared to continue shining down on him. The darkened rays cast shadows across his face, making that one lone tear track and his heartbroken frown just that much more visible. He swung his feet through the air, his cape hanging behind him in Mount Justice, making his slumped shoulders more evident. His head was hung brokenly, his messy black hair hanging down over his mask, his glove-covered hands between his legs as they rested on the sill with the rest of him.

Soft whispers of ragged breath slipped past his lips, tears clouding his dark blue eyes over heavily while they watched the ocean beneath them. The waves lightly moved and swayed, pounding into the shore with such a merciless grace that he couldn't tear his eyes away. He wasn't focusing though. No, he couldn't focus at a time like this. His body was dangling from an edge, his mind much higher, lost in thoughts that he thought would be awaiting him only once he returned home to where he'd be alone… again… if this reality kept up.

That's what he was thinking about. His mind wasn't on Alfred, the wondrous butler who served the role of his grandfather with grace, greeting him with a hug and a smile everyday, inquiring about every little thing that went on even when Dick obviously didn't want to talk about it. His mind wasn't on Bruce, the man who worked all day and night when he obviously didn't need to, but when he returned would occasionally give the ebony a shy hug, usually just tousling his hair to suffice as fatherly affection. No, those would be too simple of thoughts.

His mind was on his loneliness because he knew when every other kid in the world returned home that night, they would feel the same pain he carried with him every day. The tears and terrified sobs that would come from their lips, only after convinced that no one was around to share in that pain with them, were the same tears and sobs that he had to hide for the past four, nearly five, years. They're unbelievable fear at the thought that they'd lost their parents forever was the same fear that had become a depressing reminder deep within his heart.

The terror that had struck their hearts the second their parents vaporized was what he had felt on that haunting night what felt like a lifetime ago, the pain still clinging to him like a blade with a fish-hooked edge. For forever, he had pulled at it, trying his hardest to pull it from his chest, but it just couldn't be moved. He tried having others help, but just like his parents, they up and gave up on helping him until yet again, he was left alone to curl up in the cold bed, wishing he too had slipped from the bar.

Watching the kids through the surveillance systems on the streets all over the world broke his heart. Seeing their eyes wide, screams and tears falling like the two bodies burnt into the back of his mind made him want to go through the screen and just hold them all close, emptily promising them that everything was going to get better when it obviously wouldn't. He wanted to tell them the same things everyone else had when he had stood up there on the platform alone, screaming and sobbing bloody murder, but he couldn't hurt them like that.

He thought watching the Flying Grayson's wings get cut midair was the worst pain imaginable, convinced that it was the worst part of his life and nothing could be worse than that. He couldn't have been more wrong. 4 years later, after adjusting to the fact that they were gone and that Bruce and Batman would be raising him until one of his two dads was taken down or if he were to be the victim of someone's anger, seeing his only family left just evaporate tore open the stitches of his broken heart.

The blood refilled his chest, drowning him from the inside out as the pain continued to pool, boiling his insides like the finest of soups. Pretty soon, he was sure he'd be nothing but tears and a broken heart still uselessly beating in a puddle of the murky blood. Oh yeah, there'd probably still be a mask in there, but why bother hiding when the only person you hid from is probably dead?

Dick reached up and pulled his mask from the folds of his face, setting it onto his lap and staring down at it, another lone tear striking it gently. The obedient material swallowed the tear, leaving nothing more than a ghost of a shadow in its place. The white eyeholes seemed to blink up at him, the material already swelled back up to happy eyes, the shape they were used to taking. Lately though, the croissant rolls had become grins, his eyes always slanted down with sadness behind the mask. It was just today too, seeing that… you know… no Batman.

He was almost tempted to toss the mask into the ocean, to watch the cruel waves swallow it up with his tears as the sun now beat into the slightly red-tinted dark blue beauties, but he didn't.

'If Batman was here, he'd kill me for even having it off,' he reminded himself grimly, clutching the mask tight in his hands. 'But he's not here…'

He furiously scrubbed the tears from his eyes, rubbing until his face burned from the effort, never stopping until the throb was unbearable. Only then did he slide the black mask back over his eyes, pulling his feet in from the window sill and turning around so his back was to the ocean, his eyes on the locked door. The others were probably just as upset as him, but he couldn't help them. Hell, he couldn't even help himself. Exhaling a shuddery breath, he slowly stood to his feet and crossed the room towards the door.

'Come on Grayson, what are you doing?' he asked himself, stopping his glove on the door handle.

He stood there for the longest time, his eyes trained on his hand, his feet frozen in the same position. He did nothing more than breathe and blink, waiting for his subconscious to answer for him. What was he doing?

"Doing what the world never did for me," he decided, proudly opening the handle and stepping out in the hall.

He felt as if he had stepped into a black hole, the few ounces of hope and happiness left in him suddenly sucked away when he saw all of the faces; all of the red eyes, all of the frowns, all of the caught breaths and broken hearts. He froze again, setting a hand to the door frame to keep from falling to his knees. The whole team stood there, their saddened eyes desperately looking to him.

"W-What's-…?" he started to ask, fear shaking his voice.

Wally looked at him with fearful eyes, brotherly instinct lining the emerald as he opened his arms, an upset look lingering behind the faint smile.

"Come on bro, bring it in," the ginger warmly invited him, the darkness lining his face saying that he needed the hug more than Dick did.

The ebony knew how Wally had to feel; he talked about his parents and his uncle so much, how much he loved them and stuff like that. That's why he took a step out and wrapped his arms around the white shirt and blue jacket, hugging his best friend tight. The others all surrounded them in an instant, arms wrapping around each other in a protective circle, everyone there for the person beneath and above their arms.

"We are going to find them," Kaldur nobly declared, his voice not as stable as he would've preferred it to be. "I promise you."

No one believed it though. No, all of the heroes among them had evaporated. All that was left now was a bunch of terrified sidekicks who missed their parents, especially the little black haired boy in the middle. In their arms, he finally came to a satisfying realization: he did have someone. He had a family outside of Bruce and Alfred, outside of Mary and John Grayson's graves. They were right there around him where he planned them to stay.

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><p><strong>Admit it. This quote made you sad too. Did you notice it? I almost didn't… so glad I did though. Anyway, looks like F.J.'s desperately trying to return to me. Come on girl, bring back yo' magi'k! So, um, please review. I kinda need the encouragement. <strong>

**-F.J. **


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